


I’m Naked And I’m Far From Home (Save Me)

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Duran Duran, Fashion Model RPF
Genre: Comfort Sex, Crying, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fights, First Time, Girls Kissing, Guilt, Kissing, Lesbian Sex, Lingerie, Married Couple, Masturbation, Moving On, Multi, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Safety, Security, Threesome - F/F/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: After another brutal fight, Renée finds herself a quivering mess outside the Le Bon hotel room door. She needs Yasmin, she needs Simon. A hug, anything. She needs to feel safe.She needs to feel at home. Home, with Yasmin’s lips in her own and Simon’s tongue inside her.
Relationships: Renée Simonsen/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Renée Simonsen, Simon Le Bon/Yasmin Le Bon, Simon Le Bon/Yasmin Le Bon/Renée Simonsen, Yasmin Le Bon/Renée Simonsen
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written after a damn fine and pornographic conversation with @niterunner with Cal in mind!! ❤️
> 
> This is my first time really dealing with Simon/Yasmin without John being in their way. I hope I do them justice here: I’m really proud of this story. Also, this is my first crack at any F/F stuff, I’ve been longing to write Renée for ages. Though this is definitely not my ideal perception of her, I have more detailed work involving the supermodel yet to share.
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome. Enjoy!

_1987_

_Working For The Skin Trade Tour_

Renée took a single, short glance over to their bed, John was propped up against the headboard reading something. _Smash Hits,_ the polls were in. By the frustrated grunt she could tell immediately: their popularity was waning further. He wasn’t in any of the polls he used to top, no longer the most desired man all over the world. She didn’t care to ask now, didn’t need to deal with that.

With a grumble, she slipped herself under the covers expecting to be pounced on immediately: wearing that white satin baby doll John had bought her the other week. She turned away, gripping tight to the bedsheet. Her efforts of screwing her eyes shut and bringing her knees up as the barricade were fruitless.

As expected, she was immediately pressed into the mattress; his body rolling atop of hers, kissing her hungrily. Though she could tell, she could always tell, when John was absent. When his eyes were glassy, lips tasting anything but sweet. Tonight was one of those nights, she bucked him off with a groan. Awaiting the next fight.

He kicked out and yelled, yanking her back to the bed. She cried and screamed, knowing he wasn’t ready. Knowing he couldn’t take her; she’d rather be in anyone else’s arms. Someone who could last the night, someone who was the _same_ in the morning as he was at night. John wasn’t that. He was never consistent, never really present in their love making anymore. In their kisses anymore, a simple grope or caress and his mind was elsewhere. He would come within seconds, or be flaccid in her grip within seconds; thoroughly strung out. Veins aching, aching for another hit.

Renée was sick of those drugs, John had to score.

Still shrieking, hotel room walls shaking, she was up and headed for the door; fuming as John chased her. As he yanked her back by the silken dressing gown, tearing the lace on her sleeve, determined to press his semi against her thigh. Determined to make her stay.

She didn’t.

Shaking herself free from the violent grip, she was out the door; tears brimming in her bright blue eyes. Even John had the decency to not let their fight leave the hotel room; she slammed the door shut and he twisted the lock.

Enraged, heart aching; her watery gaze traced the next three doors down. Each number blurred over more than the last, she padded barefoot to the room at the end of the hallway: far enough that John wouldn’t hear. Though not too far, in case he grew a pair and went after her.

So far, he didn’t go after her.

She was hesitant, raising a fist and withdrawing; a shaky breath escaping her lips. With another choked off sob she managed it, sending quivering glances back in case she was being followed. The cigarette smoke that had followed her out the door was choking her; the vodka on the man’s breath she had swallowed was now raising itself back up. She felt her stomach quirk and she rushed to hold it in, panting heavily; now the tears were streaming down.

Another desperate knock and she fell forward, being greeted by an intense pair of darkened eyes. Bed hair, shucking a gown back on. Renée frowned, it was surely after one AM.

Yasmin’s gaze was full of concern, of sorrow; the two supermodels well aware that this situation wasn’t new and history would be repeating itself the longer she put up with him; the longer Renée _tried_ with him. Yasmin threw herself forward, wrapping Renée in her arms, who cried softly on her shoulder. Yasmin never let her go as she guided Renée inside, a tender hand on her back.

When Renée heard the latch on the door, she immediately felt more at ease. Desperate for the tears to stop, knowing here she would be safe.

She was handed a tissue, that delicate hand now back to caressing her shoulder. Helping Renée to smooth out the silken dressing gown, she was shivering; hands running up her sides needing to get warm.

Only now could she see what she had stumbled into, what she had ruined by coming here tonight.

Simon was right there, smiling with a hasty hand on the bed sheets; covering himself. He wasn’t embarrassed, of course not; he was simply riding out the voyeurism wave. Renée’s bleary gaze fell to Yasmin who simply nodded, wearing her own black lace dressing gown – with likely next to nothing underneath.

Renée didn’t dare to step any closer to Simon, or to their king size bed. She could only apologise profusely, embarrassment coating her tan and supple skin; before whirling about on her heel, knowing that the couple deserved their privacy.

She hadn’t been on the road as long as Yasmin though the supermodel was well aware that it bought her pain time and time again she had to bid Simon goodbye. Yasmin was an incredibly strong woman, she was travelling the world with her head held high. Though that didn’t mean the woman didn’t cherish each and every second she had with Simon. The rare moments of bliss they could share when the band were on the road.

They didn’t need to fight for her tonight.

A tender hand caught Renée, stopping her from leaving. Another small smile swept its way across Yasmin’s stunning face, silently telling her: _its okay, stay as long as you like. We want you here._ She sent a knowing glance to her husband who simply nodded, Renée turning herself away as she could hear Simon’s footsteps padding over to the lamp, where his abandoned boxers had been tossed aside. Renée couldn’t stifle a giggle as Yasmin was watching him, out of the corner of the blonde’s eye; was watching her husband treading gently on the ground. Not needing the Earth around Renée to further turn to fire.

There was a laugh from behind, telling Renée that Simon was somewhat decent and now he could hug her. Though not quite without the fear of something brushing up against her. She felt his warmth at her back long before she turned around, refraining from burying her face in his neck and just _bawling_.

Simon was always warm, always welcoming; he always felt like… _home_ somehow. To Renée, miraculously, both of them did. His huge hands were running up her lean form, before settling on her lower back with another in her hair: shushing her, helping her to regain her breath as Renée’s pants began to slow, her pulse began to settle.

She was first to pull away, another fleet of guilt present in her look at Yasmin; for ruining what was sure to have been a momentous night. Yasmin waved her off with a giggle, holding out a hand, beckoning Renée down to the bed with her.

The three were snuggled up tight in the blankets, Renée feeling even more guilty when she realised that she was in the middle; having put another wedge between Yasmin and her husband. Yasmin, who was so close, staring intently into Renée’s broad and bloodshot eyes. Yasmin, who was running a tender hand up her arm; running smooth fingertips into her hair, carding through the long dirty blonde strands. Yasmin, who was a little shocked as their lips met, though she didn’t pull away.

Every thought in Renée’s mind faded to grey, every emotion was bleeding through her veins, guilt was visible and coming through each and every pore. She pulled away first; unable to look at the man at her back.  
  


The man at her back, who now had a firm grip on her waist; forcing her to turn. Renée couldn’t decode the look painting Simon’s face: it was anything but mad. She found herself caught in a trance, lost in those steely blues and pouty lips that perfectly matched her own. Perfectly fitting with her own as they locked, for two maybe three seconds, Renée was throughly lost in the moment.

Simon pulled away ever so slightly as she hummed with affection, a small chuckle dropping from her lips. Renée sent a look back Yasmin’s way, beside her on her left; before their lips reunited in an ever growing more confident hold. This time neither model pulled back, neither woman was shy and neither lover wanted to stop.

Hands were in her hair, smoothing down the rumpled blonde strands before disappearing beneath her dressing down. Two sets of hands were roaming her body, Yasmin’s lips still pressed to hers with Simon’s own fighting to claim her; as Renée was eased down atop of the mattress. Yasmin broke away and immediately Renée craved more, craning her neck to catch Simon’s mouth in hers.


	2. Chapter 2

Yasmin made short work of removing her dressing gown. A near muted ‘shush’ of the fabric screaming to Renée that she was wanted. Craved, _desired_ by both bodies around her. She didn’t feel like an outsider, nor was she taking advantage. She was to be loved by them both, sighing happily into Simon’s mouth with feeling.

He eased himself away, finger tips traipsing down the white satin that encased her curvy frame. With a nod, Renée let those fingers caress her, soothe her; they ran up and down her sides before pawing at her skin. Kneading the skin of her thighs, creeping up to her hips. With a whine, she found herself keening under both Yasmin and Simon’s touches; the couple were removing her babydoll, baring the white lace thong beneath.

Renée’s eyes were drooping closed as Yasmin claimed her again, a soft and delicate press of lips to hers; her fingertips cupping her cheeks as the kiss deepened until they were fighting for breath. Renée broke their moment with a groan, pushing her pelvis upwards, well aware of Simon’s naughty digits sliding the thong down her long legs; he chuckled softly as she kneed him in the stomach, before returning to the task at hand. Playful, the thong now was resting lifeless on her outstretched right leg, beckoning Simon to swipe it and toss it far. He did, with his teeth; though Renée could barely keep her eyes open long enough to see where the flimsy fabric landed.

Yasmin’s fingertips crept under the baby doll, pushing it high above her breasts. With a mutual groan, both Le Bons were quick to get at it, to fall in line together. Renée was sure that they had telepathic powers or something, a simple glance each other’s way and they knew exactly what they were doing: knowing who should push and who should pull. Testing the waters. Both balancing each other out, delivering pleasure to Renée and Renée only. Who could only keen, tossing her head back even further to leave her neck exposed and legs spread as Yasmin’s fingertips found her left nipple and Simon’s mouth claimed her right.

She was groaning, wiggling slightly; pressing up into the hot touches above her, the stabling warmth. She moaned low, Yasmin’s ministrations were growing harsher, flicking her erect nipple as she peppered kisses up Renée’s left arm, then down to her collar bone. She was keening again, hissing as her pelvis thrusted upwards; Simon pulling away with another chuckle. An ever so cheeky glimmer in those bright blue eyes.

Biting her pinky lips, Renée watched him snake down her body; lips and fingertips running in wild patterns up her hips and thighs. Now Yasmin was watching her husband, smiling bright, watching as he followed in her footsteps: now laying small, feathery kisses to the insides of Renée’s clammy thighs, sighing when she pressed herself into his touch.

He was stopped suddenly, Renée could barely make out where Yasmin’s hands were on his muscular frame through her half lidded gaze. Though she still felt the guilt of sharing them, they were letting her be the star of tonight’s show: Yasmin’s lips made that promise and Simon’s touches were fulfilling it. They were stripping each other, faces alight with joy and skin alight with sparks as Simon unveiled his wife’s impeccable body and smooth skin, long and lean limbs coated in a delightful olive skin tone. Yasmin giggled as she practically ripped those boxers off of Simon, Renée blushing bright as she caught sight of him: all of him. All six feet of muscle, skin coated in a fine sheen of sweat…  
  


She coughed, not quite able to avert her gaze. Nothing got past Simon, she remembered with a grin, he had turned back to Renée; a hand pumping himself slowly, giving her a show. Rising to her forearms, her eyes were glued to it, to Simon’s lovely fingertips running all over an even more lovely and straining member. Her breath was caught in her throat as Yasmin disrupted her line of sight, this time her tongue swirled inside Renée’s mouth and she groaned into that wetness; beaming as Yasmin pulled away with a wink.

Beside her, Simon helped to ease Renée’s legs apart, baring all to air. His fingertips traced patterns up her thigh, she couldn’t help the goosebumps that coated her skin as he crept closer and closer to his quivering destination. Couldn’t help but giggle as Simon hovered right before her, eyes wide and suddenly so innocent. Couldn’t help but gasp and shudder as Simon’s tongue parted her lips and crept inside. Couldn’t tie herself down as she was bucking upwards, whining and hissing; already delirious on that talented tongue.

Yasmin was right there with her husband. Running one hand down, _dangerously_ down, to Renée’s hips before creeping over to her sex: fingertips massaging the bush. Renée had blushed madly, upon revealing herself. Then a breath she hadn’t known to be holding escaped her, with Yasmin bare and beside her; also with a small and dark triangle patch of hair that caught Renée’s gleaming eye.

Renée’s gleaming eye, that Yasmin could immediately tell was still on her. Was wanting more from her.

Renée’s moan was ripped from her throat as Simon sucked and Yasmin clambered aboard. The supermodel straddled her, pressing herself into Renée’s stomach; who clutched at her sides desperately as Simon’s tongue sped up – teasing her clit, as talented as ever.

_Of course he has a talented tongue, he’s a singer!_ Renée giggled, the obvious crossing her mind in a flash before settling her heated gaze on the woman before her again. She knew exactly where Yasmin was going with this, massaging her own breasts with a darkened and lustful glimmer in her eye. Renée nodded, helping her to scoot down; before engulfing Yasmin in her mouth, parting her lips with her tongue. Yasmin was hissing above her, her wetness tasting sweeter than anything Renée had tasted before. It tasted like home somehow, so ever reassuring.

She yelped as Simon’s fingers were plunging into her, Yasmin shuddered atop of her as the noise ripped through both women in surprise. Renée had one hand fastened to Yasmin’s hipbone, the other was searching for Simon.

Simon crept up, delivering hot kisses to his wife’s neck; as Renée pleasured her below. Yasmin pulled away then, easing off of the supermodel; slamming her lips into Simon’s. Both women were well aware that he had been neglected, so horribly so.

There was a look of mutual understanding, an agreement was made between the two Le Bons that saw Simon raising to his feet and Yasmin shuffling to Renée’s other side. They kissed lazily, the sound of a drawer opening and closing almost slipping Renée’s notice. They pulled apart, sending each other a final heavy look of knowing and reassurance. Yasmin really was ready to share her husband, Renée couldn’t thank her enough.

Rising onto her forearm, she watched as Yasmin claimed Simon’s mouth in her own; a hand pumping him, small moans escaping and small curses dropping from his plush lips. She took him into her mouth, head bobbing before Renée who could only watch, eyes hooded with desire; as Yasmin got her husband ready for _her_. She wanted to reach out and to touch Simon, to be stretched and filled by Simon; to have Yasmin help and support her through it. To have Yasmin’s lips cradle her own.

When Yasmin moved, she caught sight of him, clearly aching and in need of release. Simon brandished another dreamboat smile, she couldn’t help but giggle; watching those lean finger tips roll down the condom and lube himself up.

With another swift press to her hips, Renée’s legs were hoisted around his hips; moaning as Simon pushed in, inch by inch. She was trembling now, a fire in her belly; legs quivering, shuddering as he eased himself into her warmth, rocking slightly. Yasmin kissed her through it, delicate presses of her lips to Renée’s flushed cheeks as she whined and hissed, relaxing to open herself up fully to Simon. Simon, who was fully inside and leaning down; asking for permission to take her.

Renée granted it with a solemn nod and beaming smile that graced endless magazine covers across the world. Yasmin confirmed it with a kiss to her husband’s eager lips. Now resting above her, the two tan bodies began to rock slowly, breaths anything but stable; as Renée bucked back into Simon’s rolling strokes. Palms beside her head, he leant down further to caress her quivering bottom lip with his tongue, parting Renée underneath him as Simon picked up his pace.

He broke off first with a moan, matching Renée’s own: punctuating each thrust. Renée cried out, the pleasure sparking in her nipples under Yasmin’s ministrations and the fire raging down below were already nearly too much to bare. Simon bucked harder, yanking her legs up to change his angle; Renée choked off moan after moan, biting back as the blood pooled atop her pinky lips and Yasmin’s teeth flicked her nipple.

She forced her eyes open to see them. Simon ever so close, eyes glassy yet never leaving her heated glance. Yasmin was now on her knees, lips fastened to Renée’s right breast with another hand out of sight; working on herself. Simon’s strokes were growing erratic, the pressure of Renée’s inner walls were slowly driving them both from reason. Another few thrusts and she was coming, convulsing under him; whining and crying out as Simon pounded into her; hips stuttering and curses falling.

He collapsed atop of her, still climaxing beneath him; eager lips hastily claiming her own as Renée groaned through the last of her release: revelling in the feel of having Simon so close to her, breathing heavily on her, skin flush with her sweaty own.

Another thud and Yasmin fell forward, rubbing at herself harder and harder as Renée watched the orgasm tear through her twitching body. With a cry, Yasmin collapsed too; shivering and shuddering at her side. She was panting harshly, heavy limbs now entwined with her husband as Simon slowly retreated, drawing a final lengthy whine from Renée.

Renée scooted aside to let Simon fall onto the bed in the middle of both women, the three of them battling to get their breath back. Minutes passed and only heavy pants filled the room; Simon and Yasmin kissing lazily as Renée’s own lips dared to cross the planes of Simon’s back.

With a chuckle, he pulled away from his wife before settling down on his back; bringing both Renée and Yasmin down to meet him. Renée jumped as Simon’s lips claimed her own, tiredness in his eyes never clouding over the longing in them. Blushing, smiling a huge mega-watt smile; she crawled over to beckon Yasmin to meet her. Holding the supermodel’s lips in her own, Renée hummed her appreciation before breaking away a final time.

They fell asleep just like that. Heavy limbs enrapt in a single, white and rumpled bedsheet. Renée was covered and protected, Simon’s strong hands around both her and Yasmin, running languidly through her rumpled hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @duranarchy-in-the-uk  
> ❤️


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